Protogenoi Warriors
by DoubblySquared
Summary: 200 years after Gaea had been defeated and Percy, Nico and Thalia had been sent to Tartarus for being too powerful, the Primordials are set to rise again. Some of the Primordials aren't too keen for their brethren to rise, and have gathered an army each to fight against their siblings, hence aiding the Olympians. Not a Chaos Army story. Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

INT. COMMONS

Clang! The harsh cry of metal against metal echoed throughout the room, but its inhabitants barely blinked in shock, blasé at the sight, for they had long been accustomed to it.

Sea green eyes flashed a sudden deep velvet purple and the room began to tremble. Furniture rattled in alarm and all eyes snapped to its source, yet not budging and inch with fear or even surprise.

A bronze sword was thrust with deadly precision, so quick it left an afterimage upon the watching eyes. Just as quickly, an arc of gold intercepted it, the swinging of an Imperial Gold sword, catching the Celestial Bronze one on its blade before it could do any harm.

Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, and for a split second, likewise, transitioned into a dark shade of purple. This time, a loud crackle was heard, and eyes turned to the gold sword— _Ivlivs_, it was called— which sparked with electricity, prickling hair on skin.

Simultaneously both tapped their wrist watch and glowed with an ethereal silver. _Guard on._ The monotonous voice wasn't heard beyond the minds of the users, but watchers understood nonetheless. The sight was greeted by several eye rolls, while some others continued watching, wide-eyed and breathless with anticipation.

A jab to the side, a feint, was immediately followed by dodges, lunges and spins too brisk for a mortal eye to comprehend. Immortal eyes blessed with Patron's enhanced eye sights tracked the movements, unmoving and shrewd. A roll, a leap, a thrust and a twist of luck. Just as suddenly as it began, it was ended.

The swords were converted to their non-lethal forms, a capped pen and a gold coin respectively, and slipped into pockets before the two warriors turned to each other and bowed, decorum for fighting with allies.

Appreciative whistles met the end of the match and genuine pleasantries were made. The two warriors companionably shook hands and exchanged congratulations with much uninhibited ebullience. Hands shot up and offers to spar each other were roused, and an amiable chatter rose comfortably, suffusing the atmosphere with a gentle friendliness and comfort.

To a corner, mist gathered silently, pooling together and forming a humanoid shape in the blink of an eye. The warriors turned, bowing respectfully as the mist solidified, revealing a lady.

Her hair was as black as night, woven out of pure emptiness. Her skin was milky and flawless, and she glowed with a powerful radiance. If the on looking warriors had not been _di Immortales_, they'd have been incinerated where they stood. Her eye shone steadily with a dark velvet purple as she surveyed the warriors.

"Lady Chaos," the warriors greeted together, a harmony of respectful voices. Their eyes glinted purple, unconsciously reflecting the deity.

The beautiful deity nodded, her rosy lips upturned into a smile that disappeared after a brief moment. "Warriors, I trust that you know why I am here. It's time."

Each and every individual gasped internally, but masked their shock with a reticent front and nodded unanimously. They hadn't expected the attack to happen this soon. Nevertheless, they were prepared. After all, they were the _Protogenoi Warriors._

INT. OLYMPUS

"The _Protogenoi_ are waking. They want to avenge their sister Gaea." Hermes reported to the gathered gods and demigods. "The Fates have decreed that we will fail without the help of… several heroes."

Collective whispers disseminated throughout the throne room, all reflecting grimness void of surprise. They had known that eventually, the Primordials would follow their sister and wake, and that more heroes would be sacrificed for "greater good". And right after they succeed in defeating the Primordials for Olympus, down to Tartarus they go.

Annabeth glared at her mother with an intensity that only immortals could manage. Athena had been the one who had first insinuated that many heroes such as Percy, Thalia and Nico were too powerful and too much of a "loose cannon" who could turn against Olympus any minute. Nevermind that they saved Olympus _twice._

As a result, the Council had come to a vote, and out of the fourteen major deities, eight had voted for the heroes to be sent to Tartarus. The Olympians were sure a _grateful_ lot.

"And not just any hero," Hermes continued after the chatter had subsided. His tone was dark, melancholic. "We need the fallen heroes. That includes Percy Jackson, Thalia Grace, Nico di Angelo… and Luke Castellan, among others." His voice broke, and anguish splayed across his features.

Annabeth heart sank. It was a fallacy that time was able to heal all wounds. It had been over two hundred years since they had been… gone, and Annabeth's heart still broke a little every time. But this time, it didn't matter, because they were utterly doomed.

This time, the voices of the gathered crowd burgeoned and could not been subdued. Above, lightning streaked across a cloudless sky, a testimony of Zeus' purgatory. Miles away, waves angrily pummeled pristine white beaches and the earth rumbled with unmasked displeasure.

A flash of brilliance interrupted the commotion, stunning the crowd into silence. As the remnants of the blinding glow ebbed away, seventeen figures were revealed. Six figures stood tall, radiating pure power and importance. It hurt to look at them even in their human-sized forms, and Annabeth was an _immortal._ They looked as if they had been knitted out of the fabric of the universe itself, which in a way was actually true. Annabeth knew at once that they were the Primordials, the First-Borns, children of Chaos.

Behind each Primordial stood at most two masked figures, their faces hidden by celestial silver masks that glowed with power that seemed almost insipid next to the _Protogenoi._ Yet it was irrefutable that the wearers were powerful, perhaps even more so than the gods and right up there with the Titans.

Each wore a dark purple cloak embroidered with a gold crest, symbol of something called "_Protogenoi Warriors"._

Zeus rose from his seat, bowing in grudging respect. The other deities and demigods followed suit, though many were greatly flummoxed. Some, like Annabeth, recognized the Primordials, but thought that they were enemies. Weren't they supposed to be fighting _against _Olympus?

'Lord Erebus, lord Aether, lady Thalassa, lady Nyx, lord Chronos and lady Hemera," Zeus greeted, spieling the names in recognition. Then again, they _were _family. An eternally messy, angry, bitter family.

The Primordials nodded in acknowledgement, gesturing for everyone to return to their seats. The leading one — Erebus was it?— spoke up once the quiet rustling had subsided as the crowd reclaimed their seats and eyes zeroed in on the visiting deities.

"In this war my brothers and sisters wage against you, you will undoubtedly fail without our help." He began, surveying the faces of Olympus, his voice leaden with authority.

"Hey, are you implying that we are incompetent?" Ares demanded like a petulant child, glaring at the Primordial of darkness.

"Silence!" Zeus thundered, much to Ares' chagrin.

But Erebus looked straight into Ares' eyes, powerful purple orbs meeting swirling crimson ones. Ares gulped, and looked away, uncharacteristically showing fear. "Yes."

Erebus turned back to everyone, dismissing Ares with a wave of his hand. "You _need _our help. Each of us have at least a captain with an impeccably trained army serving under us. Many of whom you'll recognize as fallen heroes or ones you've casted off the surface of Gaea in your fear." His voice was distasteful, as if he was beyond disgusted with the Olympians' behavior.

Annabeth's heart lurched. Percy, Nico and Thalia! They were in the armies, they must be. Her pulse quickened, and she watched the Primordial with bated breath, but he said nothing more, engendering her sigh of disappointment.

Instead, a different Primordial stepped forward, Aether, Protogenos of Light. "These are my captains. Andromeda, and Javier [Jason]." The two captains bowed, and for a moment, their eyes glowed purple as they turned to face the crowd. Annabeth couldn't help but think she should recognize them, the name _Andromeda_ ringing a dim bell. A fallen hero from camp, perhaps?

Bit by bit, each Primordial introduced his or her captains:

Thalassa, Primordial of the Seas had Franklin [Frank] and Peter [Percy].

Nyx, Primordial of the Night had Tara [Thalia] and Brianna [Bianca].

Hemera, Primordial of the Day had Renee [Reyna] and Zia [Zoe].

Chronos, Primordial of Time had Lance [Luke].

Finally, Erebus moved forward, his captains flanking him. "These are Nikolai [Nico] and Haley [Hazel]. And they are the _Protogenoi Warriors."_

INT. COMMONS 

"Did you see their faces?" cackled a dark hair Italian boy as he relived the experience of finally re-entering the throne room of Olympus.

It had been over two hundred years since he'd last visited, at least according to time on earth. Back home, it had been barely a decade. Still, he didn't look a day over fifteen. He hadn't quite forgiven Olympus, who had deemed in necessary to send him to Tartarus, but their expressions had been _priceless_.

Thalia rolled her eyes at the younger boy's zeal, though she, like him, didn't look much older than fifteen either. Her own demeanor, on the other hand, displayed displeasure.

Being sent to Tartarus wasn't something that could be overlooked so easily, and Thalia wasn't too keen to overlook it, even if two hundred years have passed since then for them.

Percy high-fived Nico, whooping in delight. "Yeah they were so awestruck when they saw us. It was hilarious."

He, like his cousins, had yet to forgive the gods for what they'd done. He still had nightmares imbued by his time in Tartarus, though his Patron, Thalassa, Protogenos of Seas had done much to subdue it as much as she could.

Hazel and Frank were enjoying a private moment in the midst of all the rambunctious chatter that filled the room. Jason and Reyna laughingly reminisced about their past for they had recognized several of their old friends. Zoe and Bianca were challenged each other to archery contests, fairly overwhelmed with enthusiasm after seeing Artemis.

Silently, Luke sat in one corner, absorbed in the recent events. A plethora of ambivalent emotions bombarded him, and he couldn't really decide what to feel. The last time he had been on Olympus, he had died, sacrificing himself to save the world from Kronos' wrath.

An Asian teenage girl who looked about fifteen sat down next to Luke, her beautiful inherited gold eyes twinkling with unspoken empathy. She too, had died that day fighting for the gods. But unlike Luke, she was never recognized for what she had done.

Luke felt like a jerk next to her. He had repudiated his family, but when he made his final right decision, he got hailed as a hero, forever etched in the memories of all existing demigods and all demigods to come. On the other hand, she never made a bad choice like he had, and had chosen to fight for Olympus till the end, yet everyone had let her fade into the forgotten.

"Hey," she— Anna— said. "It's odd isn't it?" She met his gaze, her gold eyes shining with sadness.

Luke's heart clenched. Here he was, being maudlin about his situation when someone else had it so much worst. Anna blinked, her gold eyes flickering. Belatedly, Luke wondered if she had been crying.

Anna was Apollo's daughter. Growing up, she had been bullied by kids at her school for her race and her unmatching eye color. She'd lost her mother when she was barely seven, and was bludgeoned into joining an orphanage where the bullying intensified.

She never stayed at one place for more than four months, unwanted and alone. Anna wasn't too enthusiastic to share what she had been through, but from what Luke could gather, most of her foster parents had been abusive.

And Apollo never cared. He had never indirectly provided assistance to her, never helped her when she was broken and bleeding

Sure, the gods weren't exactly the caring and loving type, but Apollo took the cake for the 'Worst Parent of the Century'. At least Hermes had cared. He'd loved Luke, even if he wasn't allowed to show it. Percy had described to Luke how Hermes had reacted to Luke's death, and for once, Luke had felt… loved.

As for Apollo? Other than claiming Anna, he'd made zero contact with his progeny. There was no acknowledgement of her existence at all. Yet she never turned against the Olympians. The thought probably never even crossed her mind.

Across the room, Percy had picked up Riptide and was swinging it around experimentally before attacking a practice dummy. The happy moment hadn't lasted, as reality finally sunk into the minds of the three cousins. They were going to fight for the people of deemed it right to send them to Tartarus for something they didn't even do.

In fact, no one seemed pleased about that. Many were angry on the trio's behalf, but each harbored their own individual resentment against their parents for being generally lousy parents.

These next few years weren't going to be pleasant.


	2. Chapter 2

INT. COMMONS

Aether, Primordial of Light, paced the room, his breaths coming in short huffs and his brow furrowed, hinting at his agitation and impatience. The Fates had issued yet another prophecy, a hindrance that must come to pass.

This time, both Apollo and Artemis, the twin Olympians of archery had foolishly walked into the other Primordials' trap and managed to get ensnared in it.

If not for the upcoming war, Aether could have cared less whether the Olympians were freed or not. However, there _was_ a war, and even with the _Protogenoi Warriors_' help, Olympus was still weak and severely disadvantaged. Losing two Olympians would not work in their favor.

Initially, Aether had been apathetic about the situation. After all, it was a quest for demigods, and the camp had an overflowing abundance of those— says something about the Olympians commitment to relationships, doesn't it? Let the ungrateful gods' children do something useful for once.

However, the Fates had been _very _specific about which heroes had to be chosen. _Again._

Most of the Primordial Patrons had come to regard their captains as their children. And in a very distant, twisted, DNA-less way, they were indeed flesh-and-blood descendants. Seeing their surrogate children in purgatory had been hard enough. And yet, after all they'd been put through by the gods, they had to go save their godly asses again?

The door to the room swung open and silently, the warriors strode in, bowing to the Primordial. They'd hurried here right after breakfast, where they had heard the news from Nyx, who, much like Aether, had mentally berated the gods for their foolishness. The idea of sending one of her captains to suffer for a god again didn't sit well with her either.

"All right warriors," Aether began, swiveling to face the warriors who stood in a single file, rapt with obedient attention. "We have been given two quests. One to free Apollo, and another to free Artemis by the summer solstice in a week's time. While I am not pleased with the situation, it can't be helped, and the Fates have said that the warrior captains are the only ones that can be sent." He sighed. "Any volunteers for the quest for Artemis?"

"I'll go," Thalia offered immediately, her sky blue eyes lighting up. Partly because she'd been a hunrter once, and she still had an inclination to be loyal to her ex-mistress, but also because she hadn't had a good fight in a long time.

For the last ten years, Thalia, and the captains had been staying in their planet— ἀπόρρητος (forbidden, in ancient Greek) — training for the war, and rarely leaving for missions. While their skills had indeed been honed to perfection, it was getting insanely boring to fight the same people every day, though Thalia had to admit, many still gave her a run for her money.

"I'll go," Zoe and Bianca chorused enthusiastically.

Aether shook his head. "You'll need to stay behind to provide long-range combat. Another son of the Big Three? And perhaps Reyna, to provide a different style of fighting?"

"I'll go," Percy suggested while Reyna shrugged and assented.

Aether turned to the rest of the warriors. "As for the quest for Apollo? Two other children of Big Three should go. That'd mean Jason and Nico, both for power and versatility. Who else would like to volunteer?" He glanced at each of the warriors, none too interested in helping Apollo.

"I-I'll go," a quiet voice mumbled almost imperceptibly. "He's my… my father after all."

Eyes snapped in her direction, and faces unanimously portrayed sympathy, worry and admiration. They knew the horrors that lay in Anna's past, and were all indignant on her behalf, which was one of the major reasons no one offered to go. But her, choosing her father over herself even though he was a certified jerk? She was definitely a _Protogenoi Warrior. _No doubt about that.

Aether felt the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile and a certain warmth creeping into his stomach, sweeter than ambroisa and more intense than the sun itself. _Υπερηφάνεια, _Pride. He was proud of his daughter. Apollo was a fool for giving her up.

EXT. CAMP - MESS HALL

The _Protogenoi Warriors _descended into camp, their silver masks veiling their identities, and their purple cloaks swishing around them like a uniform armor they had to wear.

Like human magnets, they seized both the attention and the breaths of the campers in their glory, and wide eyes gazed upon the eleven immortal figures, mouths hanging open.

Chiron trotted up to them, his hooves kicking up leaves in his wake. Clickety clackety! His hoof steps echoed throughout the suddenly silent mess hall. Eating and food were all but abandoned in the wonder. Barely anything, besides Chiron's steps were heard for a few miles.

Chiron stopped a few respectful feet before them and bowed. "Welcome to our humble camp, _Protogenoi Warriors._"

It was as if time itself had frozen. For a moment, nothing happened. Sound seemed to have vanished into a vacuum and everything lost its motion. No leaves rustled in the gentle breeze, nor did any butterfly wings flutter with a consistency. Everything was still. Silent.

Then eleven immortal eyes gleamed purple.

From the Athena table, Annabeth wondered if Chiron was about to be blasted and killed where he stood before the captains. Her heart sped up and she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

And then they laughed. A symphony of eleven infectious chuckles broke out, diffusing the tension that had crept upon them, and immediately recreated a relaxed, light-hearted ambience that drew relieved smiles on campers' faces.

The front one who Annabeth recalled as Nikolai [Nico] was doubled over, clutching his stomach as his body convulsed, laughter consuming him whole. Peter [Percy] and Javier [Jason] exchanged a secret but exuberant handshake. Tara [Thalia] clasped Franklin [Frank] on the shoulder and said something in his ear that made him tremble with laughter.

Zia [Zoe], Brianna [Bianca] and Haley [Hazel] had hands where their mouths should be behind the masks, stifling giggles, as if afraid it'd be un-ladylike to guffaw. Renee [Reyna], Andromeda and Lance [Luke] gasped with laughter, grabbing wildly at each other as if they were drowning and the others were their lifelines.

A smile worked its way up Annabeth's face and she released her breath in relief. Unfortunately, the happy moment didn't last.

A girl emerged from the tables of the mess hall and appeared before the immortal warriors, her blank eyes glowing a misty green. The warriors spun to face her, laughter dying away in an instant like a switch had been flicked off without warning.

Jason's hand travelled to his pocket and he grasped his gold coin, ready to engage in a fight. Hair prickled and stood at its end.

Thalia, who had noticed his intentions, put a hand on her brother's shoulder, supposedly a comforting gesture, though her electric blue eyes retained suspicion and caution. "It's the Oracle, Jason. Not an enemy."

Jason nodded tersely and slipped the disguised weapon back into his pocket albeit he was uneasy. All around, the warriors were tensed up, their trained eyes tracking the Oracle's every movement, the way they would with an enemy.

It was unnerving, green-induced eyes gleaming back at the sudden purple orbs, instincts aroused by the Oracle's aura, screaming for the warriors to defend themselves and kill the perceived threat. But before the warriors could say a word, the Oracle's mouth dropped open and green mist slithered out, coiling around them like apparitions of deadly snakes.

"Three shall go to the god of day,

Magic's curse, death must lay,

Cave of poison, sun must venture,

And storms guide to enter."

If it was possible, Nico paled even more. Curses, poisons, storms and death. That didn't sound good. He glanced at his companions, trying to gauge their reactions to the ominous prophesized horrors that lay ahead of them.

Jason's blue eyes were set in firm determination, not portraying a single ounce of fear. Anna's gold orbs were widened slightly, worry swirling in her bottomless eyes. But even as her eyes betrayed a hint of fear, she still radiated warmth that soothed Nico.

The Oracle turned to Thalia, Percy and Reyna, green mist collecting and pouring out of her mouth.

"A quest to trace the moon's path,

Must turn to face Earth's wrath.

Without Loyalty's aid,

Half-Bloods will fade."

The trio froze as the words summoned their racing hearts. Percy had to remind himself to breathe as the room took on a darker tinge, his vision clouding. Half-bloods will fade? How is that even possible? Earth definitely referred to Gaea, but wan't she forced into slumber once again? Percy had been there when it happened, and not to mention he had been thrown into Tartarus because of it. How—?

A million questions coursed through his frenzied mind, but there was no time for answer, for their face hindrance had already come their way in the form of a monster army. And yet, Percy was sure that the camp's magical borders were still working. Which means—

"We have a traitor!" Chiron said urgently.

Luke drew out his sword and faced the six quest members. "Go! We'll hold off the monsters!"

"But—" Percy interjected. It was known that he had a propensity for loyalty, in fact, it was his fatal flaw, and leaving them to fight while he travelled away went against his nature.

"They are trying to stop you, and you must succeed, you know that. So go! Or more of us will die!" Luke urged diving into battle before Percy could formulate a reply. And Luke was right, though Percy loathed admitting it.

"Come on Kelp Head," Thalia said, grabbing his arm and proceeding to drag him towards a white van that would take the six immortal demigods to the city.

Mid-way to the van, a Cyclops stepped into their path, blocking them. The cousins back-tracked, not wanting to waste time on fighting one-eyed monsters. However, two more Cyclopes joined in, effectively surrounding the duo.

Thalia and Percy inched together, guarding each other's backs by going back to back.

"You're in my way, one-eyed," Thalia snarled, before lunging forward, her mace in her hand.

Her eyes flashed purple and electricity arced over her mace as she swung it. She drove it into the Cyclops' knee, causing it to stumble and swipe clumsily at her. She dug a hunting knife into his arm, thwarting the blow and evoking a cry of pain from the Cyclops.

She tossed her other knife into his only eye, blinding the monster. She grabbed her mace just as he swung a fist her way, and sent her mace into the Cyclops' mid-section, disintegrating the monster into dust.

Behind her, Percy had gotten the attentions of the other two Cyclopes. He uncapped Riptide, Celestial Bronze gleamed in the daylight. "Wanna dance, ugly?"

The Cyclopes growled and attacked. Percy dodged as a punch was sent his way, missing the forceful blow. He slashed Riptide against exposed forearms and gained a few seconds' respite when the two withdrew their hands.

One of the Cyclopes picked up a fallen monster's weapon, a gold blade. He stabbed at Percy who side-stepped the attack. Percy summoned water and sent it to them, knocking them off their feet in the force and enveloping them. The water froze into ice at Percy's command, entrapping the Cyclopes within them.

"Let's go!" Percy said, and received a nod of agreement from the ex-huntress in response.

Reyna was fighting alongside Jason, displaying a wide variety of stabbing techniques, skills honed to perfection over the last decade. A manticore growled at them, spikes ricocheting off his back, whistling towards them. Jason engaged his shield, shielding the duo from harm. A stray spike grazed Reyna's arm, drawing a line of blood. She winced, but did not say anything.

Jason released his shield charged, a flurry of kicks, jabs, stabs and punches. Blue orbs turned purple and lightning shot from the sky, sending a thousand volts running through the manticore. Reyna lunged nimbly, stabbing at his body and leaving cuts all over his body, sapping at his strength.

Together, they drove their weapons simultaneously into the manticore, sending it to the Underworld.

Meanwhile, Nico had teamed up with a certain daughter of Apollo, who stood a few feet behind him, shooting monsters with deadly accuracy. He swung his Stygian Iron blade protectively in a wide arc, keeping monsters away from the Asian girl, trying to keep their short attention span on him.

A snake lady clawed at him. Slash! Into monster dust it turned. An arrow shot past him, impaling a monster who'd stabbed at Nico while he rolled harmlessly out of the way, anticipating the attack.

Another monster tired to get past Nico to Anna. A whirl of blades and it was gone. More monsters headed their way, launching attacks after attacks. Slash, stab, parry, block, and dodge. Nico was fast, but he wasn't invincible. He was tiring fast and getting overwhelmed by the sheer number of monsters trying to get under his guard.

Anna moved in a frenzy, shooting arrows so quickly it was a blur. She dropped her bow, which turned into a gold necklace around her neck, and drew out twin blades of Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold. She slashed, a whirlwind of attacks and defense. A monster reached for her and promptly got sliced in half as Anna swung her blades, disintegrating the monster.

A poison-tipped blade sank into Nico's exposed skin, robbing him of his last remnants of strength. His arms started to feel like lead, and his vision filled with dark spots. He fell to the ground, as a primal cry of wretched pain escaped through his parted lips. Lava coursed through his veins, and he felt like every molecule in his body was simultaneously combusting.

"Nico!" Anna yelled in alarm, before her gold eyes hardened with anger. And blazed an intense purple. Immediately, she was engulfed in light so bright that many monsters who'd been gazing directly at her disintegrated where they stood.

It was as if they'd been standing next to a miniature, slightly less intense sun. The other monsters were blinded, the glow stripping them of their vision. Quick slashes ensured they turned into monster dust.

Jason and Reyna stumbled into the van right after Thalia and Percy, shutting the doors behind them. All four panted unevenly, taking gulps of air, forcing it down their lungs.

"Minotaur heading our way!" Jason announced. "Drive, go!"

Percy looked out of the window of the van and saw his old enemy sauntering towards them, wickedly sharp blades in his possession. Jason was right. If they didn't leave now, they'd be crushed. Even if they got out to fight, their only means of transportation will be destroyed. And there was no time to waste.

"What about Nico and Anna?" Reyna asked.

Percy's heart sank with guilt. "They'll have to catch up."

As a tired Anna dragged an unconscious Nico to the van, it sped off, leaving them behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**EXT. CAMP'S MESS HALL**

Blood splattered the ground, crimson soaking the fresh grass. The air tasted metallic, bitter, vengeful, as if the air itself was seeking to wreck its vengeance upon the grounds of the demigod camp. Which, when you think about it, was probably true.

Everywhere campers from both the Roman and Greek pantheons were engaged in fierce battle, glinting sunlight of their blades. Some of the campers participating were as young as ten, but determination still etched on their young faces, chasing all traces of fear away.

Now, I don't know if any of you have been in better before, but it was something like this. It was loud, incredibly loud. The ring of sword catching blades in their thrust, roars of agony, shrieks and yells of anger were heard throughout the open area.

There were maybe slightly over a thousand beings in this very area and the combined voices and noises emitted from clumsy movements pressed painfully against sensitive ears. It was the messy, bloodier and deadlier version of a rock concert.

Bodies littered the ground, tripping both sides and getting trampled under uncaring feet. _Fallen mortals,_ Luke thought with a resounding pang in his heart. _Death by killing and maiming in the name of Olympus._ The way he had died, the way Anna had died, the way many of the _Protogenoi Warriors _had died. These demigods were never going to grow up and go to prom. They were never to walk down the wedding aisle with the one they loved. They were never even going to get a bank account.

And all this, because of some twisted, convoluted family feud that started way before their time and will end way after. Or perhaps never.

Luke grimaced, as the stench of blood reached his nose, and another body crumpled lifelessly to the ground, adding to the bloodshed.

Why were they fighting? Who were they even fighting for? Were they fighting for their neglectful families who'd put them in Tartarus the minute they succeed? Why should they even care if the Olympians fade?

Arrows rained overhead, impaling monsters that dissolved into dust.

What was _he _doing here?

He held no loyalty to Olympus anymore. He was a _Protogenoi Warrior,_ whose loyalty lay with his comrades, Chaos, and his Patron Chronos, Primordial of Time. He was safe in his home planet with his army and friends. He didn't need to get involved. So why was he here?

Blades clanged venomously and wrestled for dominance. Swords swung in wide arms, cleaving monsters in half. Choking sulfur diffused into the air as monster dust dissipated. Bye bye world, hello Tartarus.

The appearance of a sudden bright white glow caught his attention and he tapped his trusty wristwatch, employing his power-neutralization shield to protect himself before he turned to look. All around the blazing light, monster disintegrated. Stronger monsters clutched at their eyes painfully, blinded by the intensity.

Standing in the midst of the illumination was Anna, her face drawn in anger and determination. Her expression triggered a memory, one that took place two years ago, where she had similarly, worn the expression.

_They were on a mission to solely retrieve information. Fighting was allowed but strongly discouraged. Their mission had been successful; they'd slipped in and out unnoticed, armed with the gathered intelligence. And then Anna had spotted a hellhound attacking a helpless group of mortals._

_Anna stopped, anger flitting across her features. "We've gotta help them!"_

_Luke shook his head. Sure, he felt guilty as Hades, but they couldn't intervene. They were immortals now, and there were the ancient laws to abide by. Besides, they'd been specifically not to provoke a monster into allowing them to attack in any circumstances, and time was quickly running out. If they didn't get back soon, more people would die._

"_Luke, please. They don't deserve this," Anna had argued passionately. "I know the rules. But we're not just immortals. We're immortal heroes. We are nothing like the gods. We _have _to help them."_

_There was a spark in her gaze, a fiery determination, and Luke immediately discerned why she wanted to help so badly. It wasn't for the hope of an award. She knew next to nothing about them, had no obligations to help. In fact, she knew she'd to abstain from getting involved._

_But she also knew that life wasn't all about glory and the main big, bang and pow that goes down in history, etching your name forever in the minds of people as the greatest hero to have ever lived. Life wasn't black or white; it wasn't a choice of either staying and dying, or running and surviving. It was about making tiny differences, knowing that if roles were reversed, she wouldn't want to die. It was about exercising your capability to help. It was being the hero that they were, and not taking after the gods._

And he remembered what he was fighting for. Irrational family ties. Strangers who unintentionally got caught in this messy war. The mortals who went about life without a care. With great power comes great responsibility. This, was his responsibility, his duty.

He was fighting for his friends, but beyond that, he was fighting, because he was a hero, and not a god.

He swung his blade, striking monsters in his way. He somersaulted, his blade whirling with lightning fast blows that caught monsters by surprise. He leapt over thrust swords, side-stepped jabs, and blocked strikes aimed for his immortal throat. His eyes glowed purple and time turned to liquid around him, everyone caught in slow-motion, unable to even defend themselves when he slashed his blade through their monster bodies.

Monster dust coated his being, but nothing touched him. No blade grazed him. His blood left no mark on the ground. No murmurs of agony escaped his lips. It was as if he had taken a bath in the Styx all over again, minus the burning pain. Armed with the knowledge of who and what he was fighting for, he became invincible.

**EXT. CAMP'S MESS HALL**

Anna needed to think. She had a badly injured son of Hades with her, and zero means of transport to the city. She tried to ignore the crevice opening in her heart left by the knowledge that her comrades, family even, would abandon her and Nico just like that. They _must _have a good reason, no?

A monster swung at her. Tiredly, she pushed Nico behind her and got out her twin blades. Perhaps it'd be easier to heal Nico and have him fight. He was a far better swordsman than she after all. However, there wasn't enough time, and she'd barely any strength left. She wondered if there was any sort of power dampener that was draining her strength, because there was no way an Immortal, blessed by a Primordial, would get tired this easily.

She concentrated on dodging swipes of wickedly sharp claws and giant fists the size of half her body. Her vision was dimming as weariness took over. Behind her, a shield of pure light went up around Nico, protecting him from monsters. Anna shot a bolt of healing light energy towards where the boy lay as she leapt away from a sudden strike. In the shielding dome, Nico stirred but didn't wake, as the poison ebbed too slowly from his body.

There _was _one way to heal him though. A hymn to her deadbeat father. Suffice to say, she'd never done it. She wasn't even sure how to do it.

But as more monsters barreled towards her and her blades grew heavy in her hands, her options dwindled pitifully. She sidestepped a lunge and began to hum, reaching deep within her to find happy memories. Memories where she felt safe, warm and loved, where she couldn't stop smiling. She thought of all the good things in life, sunshine, music, color. She had friends now, a family too. People who cared about her. And one of them needs to be saved.

The notes came out clear, melodic that sent pleasant shivers down spines. The hymn rejuvenated nearby spirits as warmth snuck into their hearts and their strikes strengthened with renewed determination.

Sensitive ears of the remaining _Protogenoi Warriors _perked, their curiosity piqued. The voice was unmistakable, a beautiful sound they'd come to expect every day. Their eyes filled with awe as they remembered what they were fighting for. Family, friends, and their first home.

Enemy demigods' eyes started to water as better, happier times flashed through their minds. They lowered their weapons, entranced in the hymn's pure beauty, hungrily drinking it in. Their misplaced hatred wavered and they eyed their allies, the monsters, warily, each reconsidering the situation.

Chiron stopped mid-shoot, his bow-string taut with an arrow notched, ready to fire. If it was possible, the power that emanated from the hymn was almost as strong as Apollo's, perhaps even stronger. They might have a chance to defeat the Primordials after all. Suddenly the future didn't seem so bleak.

Behind the bright shield, eyelids fluttered and poison drained away. Joyful memories raced through the Italian teenager's mind and a smile graced his lips. His pulse picked up, his breaths becoming deeper and more even. His skin regained color and pain flitted from his body, Nico's eyes opened, gleaming a dark velvet purple that matched Anna's.

And then Anna gave in to the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her mind, collapsing to the ground.

**INT. VAN**

Jason was torn up with guilt. As a born and bred Roman, it was long impressed upon him that duty came before everything. As praetor, he always had to look at the bigger picture, what ensured their eventual success.

But as a _Protogenoi Warrior,_ he understood the implications of what he'd just done. He'd abandoned his co-captain; not only was Aether going to very unhappy, he had abandoned his most trusted comrade. And beyond that, he had abandoned his _family. _There was nothing that could stem the guilt that tumbled into his heart.

Percy didn't look much better, loyalty being his fatal flaw. He'd sacrifice the world to save a friend, and leaving the camp behind while they fled in relative safety was like consuming concentrated acid, killing him inside-out.

Jason wanted to comfort him. With the amount of time they'd spent together training both their powers and combat skills, it was no wonder the two cousins were best friends. Brothers even. If they weren't so physically different, most people would wonder if they were twins.

Which was why Jason instinctively reached out to pat Percy on the shoulder and mutter a few comforting phrases that did not receive a single look of expression from the green-eyed boy.

Above, lightning flashed across the sky like nature's distress signal.

All eyes turned to Jason as thunder boomed in response. The latter's eyes had turned from blue to purple, his knuckles whitened as he clutched the leather seats. So perhaps he was in no position to comfort others.

Thalia sighed. She understood exactly how the boys felt, but she also knew they couldn't let the recent events stymie their progress. "Look guys, Anna and Nico are really powerful. And they are immortal, blessed by Chaos herself. Do you honestly think they won't make it? As for the others, the other _Protogenoi Warriors _are around to protect camp. Come on, give them some credit. We ought to be worried about ourselves.

And she was absolutely right, because all of a sudden, the earth shook and the van tottered unsteadily. The passengers grabbed onto their seats, trying not to fall into each other as the van shook. Gaea was cursed repeatedly as the immortal captains held on.

As if that wasn't enough, the van was tossed into the vengeful air at a thousand miles per hour. The white vehicle somersaulted in the sky, gaining altitude, passing from one realm to another. Mortal eyes blinded by mist, saw a plane ascending into the air, and were not surprised.

The winds battered against the van like a hundred punishing whips, but buoyed it up in the air for longer than scientifically possible. The van bounced about in the sky whilst its passengers shrieked more curses in different languages. A particular daughter of Zeus looked especially ashen, so pale that she would have given Nico a run for his money.

Then they were falling, plummeting to Gaea's sphere of control, bodies straining against seatbelts and air whooshing past their ears. The children of Zeus tried to control the winds, but there was a mightier force at work. They were no match for a Primordial.

The last thing Jason thought, before darkness took over was: Now I'll never see the pre-recorded latest episode of X-Factor.


	4. Chapter 4

**INT. UNDERGROUND ROOM**

The room was empty, void of furniture, except for a large rectangular tank that stood right at its centre. Its glassy surface gleamed, though no light came through non-existent windows. It was rimmed with black plastic, as if warning of something sinister. Steam curled off the top like vapor snakes, and if one were to look lower, into the tank, he would see the tank was filled with boiling hot magic lava that hissed furiously.

Instead of bricks and cement, the crudely shaped walls were dark brown, made of soil and mud. It was pure, packed earth. No windows or doors embellished its sides— no way of getting in, no way of getting out. In other words, deep in Gaea's belly with no escape.

Within the tank, a limp body lay unconscious. Taut chains and shackles held it still, ensuring the body remained encased in the depths of the scorching liquid. The body was riddled with burns, angry red patches of skin that leaked ichor. Dark hair frizzled, floating wildly around as if engaged in a losing battle.

What was once clothes had been torn apart into rags, stained with dirt marks. The rags were held together by pitiful thin threads around his body. The purple cloak that had served as a magical armor had been reduced to tatters.

Yet the hostage looked peaceful in his unconsciousness, nature's blessed anesthetic. Perhaps he'd be dead, and wouldn't have to face the tortures awaiting him.

The room rumbled with an ancient power and crackling sounds ensued, echoing throughout the empty area. As if in response, rocks tumbled virulently from the unstable ceiling, beating into the ground.

According to scientific research, the room should have collapsed, destroying everything it held. Yet against all odds, the ceiling held, and the growl receded into a gentle hum, soil sprinkling down to the ground.

Green eyes snapped open, consciousness flowing into the mind. Nerves began to register pain etched on his skin as blisters and red marks. His breathing quickened as his mind began to comprehend the situation he was in. A race of heartbeat as he realized he was in danger. A cry of pain escaped in a large bubbled and tears reflexively peeked out of the corners of sea green orbs,

Burning.

The eyes slid shut tight, like they were trying to stem tears. And then they shot open, revealing dark purple orbs that glowed with a supernatural power.

The tank trembled as the ground started to shake. Geysers forced its way into the reluctant ground, catapulting fresh sea water into the tank with a perfect aim. The arc of water hissed, thickening upon contact with the lava. Blue translucent turned to gold-orange, and more lava filled his tank, intensifying the heat.

A bellow of white hot pain snuck through his parted lips, a primal wail, broken and frail with distress. The room grumbled, tremors running through the packed earth in response to the desperate plea. His nerves screamed, burning agony threatening to severe his very life force.

It was like the very cells in his body were undergoing simultaneous combustion, while he was unceremoniously being dipped in the Styx without a mortal anchor.

Can immortals die?

* * *

**EXT. CAMP'S MESS HALL**

Nico's eyes flashed open, exhibiting dark violet orbs.

Power rolled off him in maniac waves, almost tangible, almost audible. He wasn't just recharged with fizzy energy. He was almost, somehow, stronger than ever. Anna's power had fuelled him with strength like a supernatural, intensified Red Bull.

For a moment, all was silent, the calm before a brilliant storm. Anna fell to the ground with a gentle thud, the only sound reverberating throughout the area for a few miles' radius. And then all hell broke loose. Literally.

The earth split open thunderously, forming an increasing fissure that swallowed unfortunate monsters in its path. Monsters and demigods alike scrambled backwards, a cry of fear stuck in their throats and dawning upon their pale faces.

Was this another of Gaea's tricks? They were already worn thin, and there was no way they could survive, if Gaea dispatched yet more horrifying things. Frightened murmurs broke out amongst the demigods fighting for Olympus, their tones low and grim. Even Annabeth for once had no idea what to make of it.

A single skeleton hand appeared at the edge of the crevice, pulling up a skeletal body. It clawed its way up to the surface, much to the surprise of the watching monsters. And then an entire dead army followed suit, closing ranks and facing the monsters.

Nico stood, the light shield blinking out of existence around him. His eyes darkened like coals, churning with raw determination and cold fury. Death and fear radiated off the son of Hades, his eyes glinting purple with power.

Nightmare flitted before minds' eyes and everyone collectively trembled, induced terror filling their insides like deadly poison. Even the _Protogenoi Warriors _winced as their minds filled with terrifying images. Nico hadn't even needed the Helm of Hades to disseminate fear.

Demigods and monsters alike dropped to their knees as they relieved their worst nightmares. They clutched at their heads, whimpering, trying to physically wrench the scenes away from their minds. The _Protogenoi Warriors _fought against the darkness probing in their mind, just barely withstanding the power intrusion.

He thrust his sword into the air with a yell, and it began. The son of Hades had struck.

The skeletal army surged forward, bones clattering against the ground with a rhythmic consistency. Demigods followed behind as they broke out of their trance, yelling battle cries that did not make much sense. A few captains had rallied the armies they led, and together, they took out the most dangerous of the monster army. They were roughly outnumbered six to one, but they had an edge over their enemies.

Let it be said that the warriors of the Primordials _never loses._

Nico stopped just briefly in his charge to force ambrosia down the fallen Asian demigod's throat and helped her up.

Her gold eyes glittered with gratitude as she looked right at him, as if she could see through all the fronts he put up, all the way into his very soul. Her mouth stretched into a smile that made him feel… he didn't quite know how to express the fluttery feeling in his chest. Ten years, and she still brought out unfamiliar feelings in him.

He let go of her as a flush crawled up his cheeks and he looked away, his heart racing.

He couldn't help but think he was going to need her very, very soon.

Together, they cleared a path in the monster army, slicing monsters back to Tartarus who foolishly got in their way. Monsters snarled at them and promptly disintegrated when eyes flashed purple. Nico kept his sword out, swinging at anything that got close.

A knife shot towards Nico's unguarded side and Anna dashed forward reflexively, no concise plan in mind, but she wasn't quick enough. Kelch! An empty clatter, and bones dissolved into the ground. A skeleton warrior had stepped into the blade at the last second, and taken the sharp projectile for his Prince. The knife embedded itself deep within bones and the skeleton disintegrated.

Anna flinched. That could so nearly have ended worst for both of them. Nico shot her a look of reassurance and she exhaled heavily with relief. Right, no time to dwell on unpleasant thoughts.

They trudged forward again, leaving behind them a wake of carnage. Monster dust spewed on anyone who got close and the other monsters wisely chose to retreat, not wanting to meet the blades that killed so many of their allies.

It wasn't long before the two found the commander of the monster army. Hyperion, the Titan of Light. Also known to many as ex-maple tree. He was all of six feet and three inches tall, dressed in brilliant golden armor as if it had somehow trapped the sun's power within them.

Every inch of him glowed a harsh golden light that temporarily robbed Nico of his vision.

Nico cringed and reached for his wristwatch, wildly stabbing commands. Driven by instincts, he dove to the side, narrowly missing a killing blow. He vaguely remembered how Percy defeated this guy: something to do with a hurricane.

But Nico had no power over water, and couldn't neutralize Hyperion's power.

He raised a hand, commanding a huge slab of rock to erupt out of the ground, knocking Hyperion flat to the ground. _Guard on_. His power shield activated and he regained his vision, blinking hard. Still, it hurt to look at the Titan; a severe disadvantage.

A gold blade, a longer, cruder version of Anna's, swung for his head, and would have cleaved it off had two twin blades not appeared suddenly, intercepting the strike. Unlike Nico, Anna had barely even blinked when the rays of harsh light had glared upon her face.

She stared right at Hyperion, her eyes flashing with anger as she forced the blade away from Nico. The Titan glowered at her, narrowing the flaming sun discs that were his eyes. Warm dark gold eyes met harsh luminous gold ones, unflinching from the intensity; _Primordial Warrior _against Titan. Power-wise? Hyperion might have just met his match.

Hyperion thrust his sword forward with the speed of a deadly viper. Anna side-stepped and returned with a cross-strike that sent his sword flying right out of his hand. He dissolved into brilliant light, teleporting to retrieve his sword and returned with an attempt to slice at her torso. He followed up with a downwards jab which, fortunately, the Asian girl avoided by tossing herself backward.

Anna drew her bow and arrow and let three arrows fly. Two hit their targets. The last got snapped in half, crushed into dust. Changing tactics, she shot at his feet, causing him to stumble. He growled, a glare fixed solely upon her. Unnoticed, Nico crept up behind him, his sword drawn.

An icy feeling filled the small of his back, forcing him to spin around with his sword raised, just in time to fend off an enemy blade. He executed a roundhouse kick, followed instantly by a slash that made his opponent stagger.

The weakened foe made a pitiful comeback that made Nico smirk as he finished his opponent with relative ease.

Kch! Blade met skin, hungrily devouring golden ichor. It dug into Anna's flesh, lusting for her blood. A muffled hiss of pain escaped her lips as she tried to defend herself. But she was disarmed, her weapon ironically used against her. A thousand frantic thoughts whistled through her head at a bullet train's speed. What could she do?

She pulsated with light in anxiety as the Titan held the blades to her skin, ready to deal the killing blow. Nico's head snapped up and his volcanic dark eyes widened as he registered the scene before him.

Shadows wrapped around Anna and Hyperion, shrouding them in sudden and complete darkness, taking Hyperion by surprise. For a moment, his light was extinguished and a sword was thrust into his knee.

Anna felt a cold hand grab her and let out a breath of relief as Nico took her away, shadow-traveling to safety.

With a roar of fury, the Titan regained his light, tearing through the darkness of the shadows. All these happened in about half a second, but already the two warriors were nowhere to be seen.

Out of the Titan's attack range, Anna crouched safely behind an obstruction, pulling Nico close to her. "Hold on to me," Anna instructed the dark demigod. "Ready?"

A decisive nod, and their fingers intertwined.

On a silent, unanimous count of three, the two demigods dashed forward. Power flowed from one to another. Nico's darkness concealed them, while Anna's powers allowed Nico to stare right at Hyperion without any discomfort. In fact, the power shield that he had activated was only hampering his view.

Strength surged into Anna, rejuvenating her. She had been running on ambrosia and Nico's strength helped sustain her.

Together, they slashed at Hyperion, drawing lines of ichor before he spun around, growling.

"Pathetic weaklings. Do you honestly think _you _can defeat me? I am a Titan!" Hyperion roared, raising his sword.

Both demigods ducked, missing the strike. Anna retaliated, but the Titan who was surprisingly quick on his feet for someone so large, dodged it.

Because a fight wouldn't be complete without some useless, witless trash talking, Nico fired back a retort. "If my memory served me right, a demigod single-handedly defeated your ugly face and turned it into a much better looking maple tree."

Hyperion bellowed with rage. Apparently, Nico had hit a sore spot. "That upstart ended up in Tartarus! And that's where you'll be going right after I finish you!"

Nico glared at the Titan. "I wouldn't be so sure about."

Anna glanced at Nico. Hyperion was a Titan, and there was no actual way to kill one. In fact, as far as Anna knew, only Primordials were powerful enough to kill Titans. Where were they to get such enormous power?

Anna's mind shot to her Patron Aether, Primordial of Light. He was definitely more than capable of killing Hyperion. However, the ancient laws forbade his intervention, unless he was provoked. There was no way they could bring the fight up to him; he must come to them. But how

Anna's eyes widened. There was _one _way. Terribly risky, but their only survivable option. Well, survivable for Nico anyway.

She gestured for Nico to reactivate his power shield before letting go of his hand with a quick prayer. The sudden lack of supply of energy made her feel lightheaded and disconnected. She caught herself before she could fall as she staggered forward clumsily.

Acting upon his instincts, Nico reached for her. She was dangerously close to Hyperion now and had lowered her sword. What in Chaos was she doing? Did she have a death wish?

Apparently she did.

"Trust me," was all she mouthed, and she stepped forward.

Right into a killing blow.

**Author's Note: Okay, so this isn't my best chapter. For some reason, my head wasn't quite in it when I was writing it, as if I was half-asleep. But please review anyway so I can try to change this into a better chapter! Thanks for following!**


	5. Chapter 5

**EXT. PLANET FORBIDDEN**

ἀπόρρητος. Forbidden, the planet of the _Protogenoi Warriors. _Humans and lesser deities were forbidden to enter its lands, for the power infused in its very soil and air would have torn their being to shreds. Such, was how the planet had derived its bleak name.

And yet, in a way, the Primordial army was also the forbidden ones. They had been forbidden to return to their mortal lives, forbidden to step on solid earth as themselves, and forbidden to ever attain the peace they should have attained back on Earth. But mostly because they'd forbidden their hearts from ever harboring loyalty to Olympus.

If they had begged hard enough, Aether reflected, he would never have ordered them to go. It was important to keep Earth from the cruel Primordial's wrath, but it wasn't a necessity. It wasn't like Earth was going to be destroyed anyway; Gaea couldn't possibly destroy herself. It wouldn't have benefitted the _Protogenoi Warriors_ either way, for they already had a home, a place guarded by Chaos herself.

But they had agreed, without doubts clouding their minds. They had chosen to help at their own expense, despite everything that had happened to them— a sign of their innate propensity for heroism, something Aether could never understand. Yet he was proud, for he had chosen strong warriors, and they didn't prove him wrong.

He stared out across the vast lands of Forbidden, when a sudden jolt of pain shot through his chest like the razor sharp tip of a blade. He jerked backwards, his hand rising to clutch his chest, trying to wrench out the blinding hot pain.

His symbolic weapon fell out from his hand, hurtling to the ground, striking it with a loud, definite crash. Color spots danced in his eyes as he stumbled, arms flailing. The ichor in his veins had turned electric as it coursed through his body, sizzling everything it touched.

His heart seized painfully as if someone had somehow strangled his heart. He gasped, spitting out ichor that splattered the ground where his weapon lay, silent and still.

Somewhere deep within him, he sensed the flickering of a connected spirit, the bond between them stretching taut and thin. A faltering of heart, the shallow intake of desperate last breaths.

Anna. Anna was dying.

Anna was his captain, his protégé. Ten years ago, she'd sworn a binding oath to serve by his side, and pledged loyalty to no one but him. Since that day, she'd been bound to him, her Patron, by an invisible chord. Attacking her would mean attacking him, for she drew strength from him, and he would bear part of the anguish she felt.

That very binding chord snapped.

A last gasp of air, a heart slowed down, ceasing to beat.

And everything went white.

Pain flashed through him like lightning, igniting his every cell into a frenzy. His insides melted to mush. He trembled, tremors racing through his body as pain exploded upon him. He felt as though someone was trying to carve a huge slab out of his very heart.

A primal roar tore out of his throat, thundering across the lands of the Forbidden. A cry of despair and agony and loss. The ground shook as he fell to his knees, sharing his purgatory. Tears traced the shape of his cheeks — salty liquid he had often heard of, but never experienced. His thoughts turned to gibberish and his strength abandoned him.

Anna?

**EXT. CAMP- MESS HALL**

The blade swung down in a forceful strike, incandescent with power. It connected, slicing into flesh and bone with a sickening crunch. Blood spurted out, gold against green grass. The spilling of immortal blood. The grass sizzled, withered and turned into smoke.

Anna jerked as the blade went in, the hilt sticking out crudely. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped to her knees. Ichor was leaking everywhere; she cried tears of ichor, screamed ichor, as if she had been converted to a fountain spewing golden liquid.

A silent cry.

Nico lurched backward with a yelp. A familiar tightening in his chest, and then a snap, followed by a bitter, metallic taste in his mouth. The signs of a spirit ebbing away, leaving behind an empty shell.

All around the battlefield, the _Protogenoi Warriors _were thrown to their feet. They were all bound together, by magic stronger than the Primordials, by Chaos. All felt the razor sharp pain, as it overtook them, pounding against them insistently. Their eyes flickered, switching to purple, and then back again.

They knew, without looking, that one of their own was lost.

A simultaneous grief-stricken, anger-filled roar filled the area, like a thousand thunderclaps bursting in fury, echoing into the ears of all present. Mortal half-bloods clapped their hands over their ears, as the cry of pain twisted in them the ragged edge of a blade.

Rage swarmed up in Nico like a rising tide. One moment he could feel her life-source weakening, a brightly lit candle slowing dimming, and the next it was just gone. Lost. Snuffed out. All because of some stupid fight they had not needed to get involved in.

So let the Primordials rule the world and have the gods thrown into Tartarus. What difference would it make? The gods weren't that much better anyway. _They_ had thrown him, along with Percy and Thalia, into Tartarus once before. Why not let them experience hell too?

Nico supposed he should feel a sort of guilt at least, for condemning his wretched "family" to such horrors. But he didn't. All he felt was a mindless rage and bitter resentment. His nails dug into his skin with such force that it broke and shed golden ichor.

He had been to Tartarus _twice_ now, both times because of the Olympians. When he finally thought he had gotten a home, and a real family, he was dragged into yet another family feud of the Olympians. And they had the decency to hurt his _real, only_ family.

Nico growled and the earth rumbled with angry tremors, echoing him.

Anna was off-limits. _No one _touches his family and gets away with it.

Before he could make a move, a blinding blaze lit up the sky, like a brilliant fireworks display, except much bigger and much brighter. It was as if the heavens themselves have been torn open in its full glory, a thousand suns shining at their brightest.

Nico, son of Hades, prince of darkness, had never felt more vulnerable in his life. The light seemed to strip him of his very skin, leaving behind only bones and muscles. He couldn't see a thing; his eyes felt like they had been seared off by the light.

Burning hot pain flashed through his dark veins, attempting to incinerate his insides. If Nico hadn't been an immortal, blessed by Chaos, he would have become another grease spot staining the camp grounds. As it was, Nico wondered how the half-bloods were going to survive this.

The next thing he noticed was the silence. No gasps of surprised or cries of pain filled the air. The clanging of weapons had ceased, along with the rustling sounds that hinted at the tiniest movement. Had Nico not been able to feel the crusty blood dried along his forearms, he would have thought he was all alone in the world, and the battle as a figment of his imagination.

He tried to open his mouth, but found that he could not, as if his lips had been sewed shut. Irrational fear rose in his throat. Was it an enemy Primordial? That would certainly turn the tables against them and he would lose more of his family today.

Nico felt himself curling into a ball on the ground, his heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird in his chest. His skin prickled, hair standing on its end as an iciness arose in him, extinguishing the burning fury that had encompassed him just moments earlier. A part of his logical mind berated his cowardice, but he couldn't help it, he was terrified.

And then surprisingly, the light vanished, spiraling away like diamonds glinting in the harsh sunlight. The pressure in his chest lessened and he found that he could breathe again.

He blinked to see a man kneeling over Anna, shimmering in the light. Before him, Hyperion stood frozen, eclipsed by the light of the new arrival. In fact, Hyperion seemed almost _dark_ in comparison.

_Aether , _Nico realized with a start. The Primordial of Light, Anna and Jason's Patron. Nico recognized his sharp features, like light bending in a glass prism, regal and beautiful in its own right.

Back in Forbidden, Aether had often looked kindly, a middle-aged gentleman you'd expect to see handing out candies to little children and grumpy people.

He looked nothing like that now. This man, though still retained the handsome incandescent angular face, was stern with a grimly fierce expression. His eyebrows were knotted together, his purplish eyes narrowed. He was now a warrior, radiating immense power.

"Hyperion," Aether spat, rising from his spot beside his captain.

From where Nico stood, he saw Aether's eyes burn with seething rage, like purple suns. Hyperion shrank back, his golden sword trembling in his uneven grip. Nico could see Hyperion's eyes filling with fear and almost felt sorry for him. _Almost._

"You can't attack me," Hyperion said, his voice quivering with uncertainty. "The ancient laws forbid it."

He'd gone as pale as paper, paler than even Nico himself. He glanced around, wide-eyed, but none of his allies stepped up in a show of support.

Nico got to his feet, frustration swirling in him. Hyperion was right, Aether couldn't attack Hyperion unless provoked. Nico didn't think Hyperion was stupid enough to provoke the Primordial.

_Is that it?_ Nico thought angrily. _The whole stepping into a killing blow and dying, the magnificent display of power. Is it all going to end here with nothing accomplished? That Anna's plan did not work out and she sacrificed her life for nothing?_

His rage had returned with a vengeance, anger at Olympus, anger at Titans, and anger at the stupid ancient laws that bound the immortals. But what happened next silenced his virulent thoughts.

Moving so fast that it was impossible to follow, Aether lashed out, striking Hyperion into the ground. Hyperion rolled to his side as Aether's fist came down, turning the grass into blackened ash at his fiery touch.

Hyperion leapt to his feet, appearing a few feet away, distancing himself from the angry Primordial. Unfazed, Aether followed him, delivering a punch that made Hyperion cough out ichor. All around them, both sides of the battle were still in breathless anticipation.

"Oh but you _did_ provoke me," Aether hissed as he sent yet another punch Hyperion's way. "You touched Anna."

A burst of light exploded from the two dueling deities, and then it was over, a fight that had barely lasted five seconds. Aether had his hands around the Titan's neck, burning the skin where he touched.

Hyperion made a vague choking sound, his gold eyes glimmering with fear and defeat.

"Of course I won't kill you, you'll just reform and return to your dear mother. I'll keep you in my torture chambers where I'm sure you'll be _thoroughly entertained._" Aether's lip curved over his perfect pearly whites, looking like a terrifying dentist promoting good brushing habits.

Rays of light wrapped around the three figures, increasing into a whirlwind of pure light. There was a feeling of the world being turned upside down, and Nico's head fell into his hands as a bout of vertigo took him.

When he finally managed to look up, they were gone.

Jason felt it, the blood stirring in his veins, the sudden jolt of fizzy energy, like a starburst, or the rising of a sun, its warmth peeking at Jason welcomingly. It renewed his spirit, the way drinking nectar or the rays of sunlight themselves did.

His containment had been mostly mental, locking him within himself through vivid nightmares that haunted his sleep. Jason wasn't even sure if they were nightmares. The whispers seemed so real, breathing down his neck and prickling his skin. They knew his every thought and desire, and exploited them. They fed on his despair. They changed him.

A few months ago, he wouldn't have recognized the scarecrow thin boy he had become, nor the perpetual features that seemed to have become a part of him. Bravery was a core trait of demigods, even immortal ones, and he no longer had that capability.

Scars covered his body where he had scratched them with dirty ragged nails, screaming in terror. His sky blue eyes were haunted, ghosts lurking in his irises. Dark half moons lay beneath his eyes. Exhaustion despite relentless sleep.

Jason was beginning to forget the sun, the stars and the freshly cut grass. The fear that had taken up permanent residence in his heart had sucked away all his good memories, memories of laughter, memories of friends and family; all things good in life.

A few days ago, he'd felt the searing pain in his heart, as if an arrow had struck him. It was a furious pain, one that seemed to rip him into a million pieces. And yet with the unbearable pain had come clarity. The wails in his mind had been muted, the whispers silenced, and the fear receding. It had almost broken him out of his mental cage.

Not long after, the pain had ended and he'd been thrown into his mental dungeon with a resounding snap, stronger than ever. He wasn't even sure when his dreams ended or began. The time periods melded together, blending into a fluidity that weighed and stuck on him, the way trudging through waist-high mud did.

And now, his blood sang within him, jostling him awake once more. He had sensed his Patron's arrival on Earth and answered his call, his vigor renewed. He had drawn strength from his Patron, eradicating his once drowsy mind. Fear slipped away by his wakefulness and his mental cage was demolished.

Now all he needed was a plan to get out of here and save the world.

**A/N: Hope this story was up to par! Just to clear up some (potential) confusion, the time passes quicker in wherever Jason is, as compared to Earth. So it could be one day for him, and only one second would have passed in the mortal world. Hope you'll understand better now! :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**EXT. ROOM**

Getting out was harder than Jason had expected. Apparently he had the tendency to fire lightning bolts in his sleep, so the doorless and windowless room designed to contain him had long ago adapted to withstand the high voltages he threw at them.

Oddly enough, it was the nightmares that saved him and provided him the escape route in the end. He remembered the taunts in his dreams, how they'd laughed at him cruelly, sending shivers scuttling down his spine like a handful of frightened spiders.

_You'll never escape,_ they'd said. _Never._ Just as they'd told him Piper was either dead, or had forgotten all about him, a fear and desire that he'd secretly harbored. And they had tormented him with visions of Piper growing old with another man, leaving him in the dust, breaking his heart every time.

That was the trick, he realized. The room represented everything that was a complete opposite of his desires. If he wanted a hot tub, icy poisonous water that sizzled and stung him would be flung upon him instead. If he wanted to escape, this room would be impossible to escape.

If he wanted to stay… that was an entirely different matter.

It was a lot easier said than done. This was the very place that terrorized and hurt him both mentally and physically. It was the very center of his nightmares and pain. If he didn't naturally associate the room as negative, he'd have to be out of his mind.

And yet, being a demigod was all about being crazy. The unexpected. Because the gods, the Titans and the Primordials were constant, unchangingly predictable eternal beings. That was why they needed demigods, with the blood of the immortal and the blood of humans. Together, demigods changed the world. And despite the golden ichor running through his veins, Jason was still very much a demigod.

He emptied his mind of all his doubts, fears and desires. He casted away the part of himself who was once Praetor to the Roman demigods. He didn't have a title— he was just Jason Grace, a single spirit reborn in the confines of this dreadful room.

Even though it hurt him more than any Imperial Gold thrust in his heart ever could, he forgot about Piper. He shot down his resentment and hatred. He lost sight of his purpose and goal.

The word "comfort" came to mind. The old Jason would have immediately thought of the luxurious Roman baths, his cabin at Camp Half-Blood, and having Piper by his side.

This Jason, however, had no desire for that. Comfort to him was the room he was held in, with its bare dirty walls, poisonous acid trickling down its side, manacles chaining him to the wall. Idle expectant days stretched before him. In here, he didn't have to battle monsters and constantly be on the brink of death. He didn't have to worry about wars, prophecies, or looking stupid in front of his friends. Most of all, no Piper meant that there was no way she could leave him.

He was in _paradise_.

He relaxed his aching muscles where they'd stayed in the same position for hours, all strained and stiff. He couldn't even remember why he was so tensed in the first place. Everything was but a distant memory buried in the depths of his mind. After all, he was alive and well, and wasn't that all that matters? He could stay here forever…

The nightmares that once haunted his sleep, he no longer regarded as torture. Instead, he welcomed it with relish as an exciting change of scene, for while his day in the room was comfortingly repetitive, it could get a little dull at times.

His nightmares gradually withered away into pleasant dreams with familiar faces he couldn't quite place. The echoes of names were printed on his lips, just barely out of reach, but Jason wasn't bothered to remember, for in his room, he needed no friends.

The once cold, empty room was now converted into a luxurious suite. A king-sized bed stood at its center, under a glass window that showcased the stars above, twinkling like tiny diamonds in the night sky. A walk in closet filled with outfits of every color and texture lay right next to his very own hot tub.

And the new Jason accepted every adaptation with delight. Nothing could faze him. He wanted to stay forever and ever. And as an immortal, he did indeed have the time to do just that.

The turning point of his desires hit the room like an earthquake. The room pulsed and throbbed; a giant racing heartbeat. The marble floor beneath his feet rumbled with a ferocity like a hungry lion. Furniture rattled and flailed in terror. It was as though someone was trying to demolish the room he'd been sent to be imprisoned in, and that was very, very much against his will.

The room shook with alarming urgency. Cracks appeared on the walls, ugly long gashes that threatened to split the room wide open. It could have been hours, it could have been days — Jason had lost track of time the moment he'd vowed to stay here forever. All he knew was that he had _no desire_ to leave this room, even if he was taken out by force.

He fell to his knees as the room crumbled around him. Tears streaked down his dirty face, leaving behind wet shiny tracks that glimmered in the dim light of the chandelier. Bit by bit, his room was getting destroyed, turning into dust.

"No," he cried. "No no no no no."

A burning desire for the room to remain intact loomed in his mind. It was his biggest wish, dream and desire.

"Please," he pleaded. But that only made it worst.

The room exploded into a shower of cement and rocks. Shards of sharp rock projectiles rained like dark, dangerous confetti at a parade. A sudden burst of sunlight hit him, blinding him with its brilliant blaze. He'd become so used to the dim unnatural light of his room that the harsh golden rays of the afternoon sun felt foreign.

At the back of his mind, something he couldn't quite place nagged insistently at him. Something about sun and light? Jason couldn't quite remember. All he wanted was to return to the room where he belonged.

A particular blunt-tipped rock was hurtling towards him. There was enough time to dodge, or to throw his hands up to shield his head, yet he did none of the above. He watched in fascination as the rock shot down towards him, ripping its way through the skies. Perhaps he'd get to keep a part of the room with him after all!

And then it connected with his skull and he fell into a sea of deep, murky darkness.

* * *

**INT. COMMONS**

Anna wasn't sure if she was dead or alive. _Or somewhere in between_, she mused idly, _where time is suspended and eternity stretches on like the vast expanses of a desert._

After all that she'd been through, that didn't seem like much of a horrifying prospect. After all, peace for all eternity, or battles where you watch on helplessly as your friends succumb to death? It was selfish, but it was a no-brainer.

Yet Anna found herself guiltily pondering on the fates of her fellow warriors. She should be there with them, fighting with her comrades and doing everything she could to protect them. She thought restlessly about Jason, her co-captain, Luke, who she loved like a brother, and Nico; always Nico.

She wasn't sure what he was to her, but his face came to mind so often, it was like a broken television screen replaying the same images over and over.

The throbbing in her chest that had once seemed like a rusty poison-tipped dagger repeatedly digging into her heart, sending fireworks of electric pain down her veins, had faded into a dull ache. She no longer writhed and thrashed in pain, though sometimes, it still reared its ugly head and stole her breath. Not that she needed to breathe if she was already dead.

And while her fitful mind turned over dozens of questions, her heart was filled with an inordinate amount of peace. She _really could_ stay here, wherever here was, for all of eternity.

Distantly, she thought of her own father imprisoned in celestial bronze chains, or worst, scorching him where they lay against his bare skin. The image sent guilt rising up in the Asian girl's throat. How could she enjoy peace while her father suffered? How could she live with herself— that is, if she was indeed alive— knowing that she'd allowed something so horrible to take place while she could have stopped it?

_But why not?_ A virulent voice said in her mind, foisting doubts upon her. He _let_ you _suffer while he enjoyed his immortal life. He could have done something to stop it, or at least aid you, the way Athena guided Annabeth. He didn't. Why should you help him now?_

Anna shook her head fiercely. _I made a promise,_ she thought back with the vehemence only a teenager could muster. _A promise to my Patron, lord Aether, that I, as a _Protogenoi Warrior_, am duty-bound to keep._

_Duty-bound?_ The voice mocked her. _Look at you, grasping at the straws, talking about promises and duty. You're a _fifteen-year-old teenage girl; _you don't care about duty. That's not the truth and you know it. You want Apollo to —_

_To what?_ Anna demanded, feeling the familiar sting of tears in her closed eyes. _Damn it, I made myself cry._

But deep in her heart, she _did _know. However annoying the voice in her head was, it was also right. A memory tugged at the banks of her mind, a memory so horrid she'd tried so hard to forget. Still, she could do nothing to stop it as it transported her back in time, till when she was a little girl.

_It was her mother's funeral. Anna had just turned seven two weeks ago, and death was an alien concept to her. All she knew was that her mommy was no longer there to bandage her wounds after the mean kids at school hurt her behind the teacher's back._

_Uncle Kyle was there too. Uncle Kyle wasn't really mommy's brother. He was actually her boyfriend, and Anna's soon-to-be daddy. Anna always wanted to have a daddy, she never knew hers. Every time she asked about her daddy, her mommy would burst into tears and weep for the guy Anna never knew. Anna learned at a young age that her real daddy was bad news._

_That night, after the funeral, Uncle Kyle took her home. He had a square jaw and dark charcoal eyes that her mommy loved. _It's the furthest color from your daddy's eyes,_ she'd once told Anna. And that was why she'd been so entranced in them. _

_Anna, on the other hand, were terrified of his dark, bottomless eyes. They reminded her of the deep and scary pit full of monsters she'd once read about in school. Tar-ta-rus. She'd to practice for days before she could spell it right. His eyes had a predatory look in them as he gazed at her, making her feel like a cornered animal. _

_He tucked her in her bed that night, just like a daddy would, his dark hair brushing against her face. He smelt like cigarettes and alcohol, but her mommy had always taught her to be gracious, so she didn't dare to comment. Instead, she tried to thank him as sincerely as she could._

"_Thank you, Uncle Kyle," she said earnestly, blinking up at him with wide gold eyes she'd come to hate._

_Uncle Kyle frowned, an ugly twist of dark red lips. "I'm not your uncle."_

_Anna didn't really know how to reply. Her mommy never taught her to. "T-thankyou… d-daddy?" She ended it off in a nervous question. She didn't like how Uncle Kyle was looking at her, as if he was looking at a Turkey he wanted to roast for Thanksgiving._

_He frowned even more then, his thick eyebrows drawing together sharply. "I'm not your daddy," he snapped impatiently._

_Under the covers, Anna whimpered, frightened by his tone. _

_But then his face smoothed out, and his lips upturned into a maniac, twisted smile. "I want to be your _friend._"_

_The word made Anna shudder in a way she didn't understand, for she loved making friends. In school, nobody wanted to be friends with the "golden eye freak". As an Asian, she was discriminated against, but even the Asians didn't want to be her friends, thanks to her scary golden eyes._

_Yet the way Uncle Kyle said the word was so unpleasant that even socially-starved Anna had no desire to be _friends_ with him._

I think we can all guess what happened next.

_He touched her in places a seven-year-old knew no names for; vulnerable places that hurt and ached in a way that they shouldn't. He promised her she'd enjoy it, and forget all about her mommy, but as silent tears ran down her face, she'd never wanted or needed her mother more than ever._

_After he'd left, she'd pushed open her bedroom window with trembling fingers, fumbling with the latch. The cool night air caressed her face like her mother's kiss, and she cried into the darkness. Anna was afraid of the dark— always had been for some strange reason. But at that moment, even the darkness was comfort from Uncle Kyle._

_She climbed gingerly onto the windowsill, wanting to get away from what had just transpired in the bedroom she grew up in. She remembered everything with a vivid clarity, clearer than she remembered how to spell her own name. And as she perched precariously on the windowsill, she wondered again why her daddy wouldn't come back and rescue her._

_An over-step caused her to lose her balance, and she slipped off the tiny ledge, clutching desperately at thin air. No blanket of wind rushed up to slow her descent, nor mysterious padding appeared to cushion her fall. No miracle awaited her as she plummeted straight into her neighbor's backyard._

_In the darkness, her neighbor found her, half-conscious and broken, both physically and mentally. Stars burst into bouts of dizziness behind her eyelids, showering her in a half-sleep state of wooziness._

_Above her, she saw, from her half-lidded eyes, concern flitting over her neighbor's familiar face. In the darkness, his worried eyes had become almost luminous gold, which was crazy, because she knew for a fact that his eyes were grey like stormy skies. _

_Half-asleep, she didn't ponder on the matter. All she knew was that she was finally safe. _

_When she woke in the hospital, she spotted a pair of gold eyes that flickered into emerald above her, and stayed emerald. The echo of a sweet melody played in her ears like a lullaby lulling her to sleep, a familiar but forgotten tune of her childhood._

_In the days that followed, she saw those golden eyes everywhere in split seconds, as if they were following her around, but vanished as soon as she saw them. They were comforting and so familiar that Anna couldn't help but feel safe._

_Uncle Kyle never came back, and trouble didn't find her, at least not while the golden eyes were watching her. And even though Anna never saw them for more than half a second at once, they became her good luck charm._

After her arrival at Camp Half-Blood, she'd learnt all about her extended family she never knew she had. She'd met her half-siblings, who took her in without so much as glancing at her eyes. She learnt about her father— and for once, hope fluttered in her. Perhaps her father _had _cared; perhaps he had been the gold eyes watching her.

But it wasn't. It was a well-known fact that Apollo had baby blue eyes— the golden eyes she'd seen everywhere had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination, still woozy after her fall from her window.

He never once helped her, even though she was only seven and had just had the worst thing that could ever happen to someone, happen to her. But he didn't even care. Not even enough to send a single comforting word to her while she was in the hospital.

How could her _father_ let something like this happen? She sought an answer, but Apollo refused to oblige. He met with every demigod _but her._ It was as though he didn't even know she existed, though he had claimed her as his daughter.

And yet, here she was _grasping at the straws, _clinging on to the last thread of hope that refused to snap. She still wanted his approval. She still wanted him to— love her. That was the answer, the last bit to the statement the annoying voice in her head had started.

_You want Apollo to love you._

**A/N: At this point in time, I want to declare that I have no idea what was going through my mind when I wrote this. I honestly wanted to write a memory preferably on how the kids at school bullied Anna, and somehow link it back to what she wanted Apollo to do. But this was the result. *embarrassed* I tried my very best to link it back, and I'm not sure if I did it well, so hit the review button below and tell me what you think! **

**Sorry about the late update, my mom has been forcing me to get a vacation job, and I just got sick, so my head is still a little woozy, but at least I get to write! ****Also, for the record, I _love_ Apollo. :D**

**Hopefully, I'll get to the next update sooner! Thanks for reading. :)**

**P.S. I'm sorry about lengthening this A/N, because it's probably boring to read, but I just needed to say this, this story is not based on what Anna went through, it's about the war between the Primordials and Olympus. There are sub-plots and this is just one of them, but this isn't the focus of the story. **


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